


I Touch Your Lips With Mine

by everywhere



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Maylor fluff, alcohol mention, i got this idea on a bus and HAD to write it, roger is drunk and stupid, set sometime in the 70s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-13 15:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18944143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywhere/pseuds/everywhere
Summary: Roger gets drunk and mistakenly thinks he's dating Brian.Title from "In The Lap of The Gods"





	I Touch Your Lips With Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer! I have 0 idea how alcohol works (i hate it) and whether or not this is feasible to happen when you're drunk but!! Let's pretend it is!

The door creaked open as Roger returned, hands absentmindedly patting a beat on his thighs.  
Curse Brian for being such a light sleeper- he was already asleep but the thudding of Roger around the apartment as he drunkenly stumbled, failing considerably at being quiet, woke him. He could hear the drummer humming something as he went, but the pitch was quite off, which was a reliable indicator that Roger was- for a lack of better terminology- _shit-faced_. He heard him pattering down the hallway, humming growing nearer. Brian just had to pretend to be asleep while Roger went past into his own room, then he'd be quiet. 

Except that was not what happened. Dull light from the kitchen light Roger had left on in a drunken stupor seeped into his bedroom. Roger came through the door, kicking off his jeans and crawling in to bed next to Brian.  
_"What the fuck, Roger?"_ he wanted to say, but was quickly interrupted by a soft pair of lips against his and the taste of alcohol. Unsurprisingly, his first kiss with a man was with Roger. Surprisingly, Roger was incredibly soft. Brian was too shocked to kiss back.  
"Hey, Bri" Roger slurred, voice full of drunken affection. Brian decided in his sleepy state not to ask any questions.  
"Hi, Rog." He responded. The guitarist hardly got to finish his greeting before Roger's lips were back on his, his calloused hands tangling in his curls. Roger's chest pressed against his arm as he pulled his body slightly on to Brian's. This time, Brian was prepared and not in a state of shock. He kissed him back, moving his lips against Roger's slowly. It was far better than he'd ever imagined. Which was becoming a relatively regular occurence, the blonde had taken up the majority of space in his mind as of late. He was just too darned attractive. All smooth, muscular body and pale skin, long blonde hair falling at his shoulders and eyes as blue as a lake.  
As amazing as getting to kiss Roger was, he wondered why it was happening. He didn't get far into thinking on it before Roger's tongue snaked into his mouth and met his own. Logical thought took a backseat as they twirled with each other, Brian pulling the rest of Roger on top of himself. Roger was awfully sloppy, which was to be expected- he was (from Brian's judgement) incredibly drunk. He twisted his head to deepen the kiss, flattening his palms against Roger's back. As morally ambigious kissing someone drunk was, he had plausible deniability in that the drummer had kissed _him_ first.  
Which was insane. Beautiful, popular Roger Taylor had kissed _him_. 

Roger pulled his mouth back and pecked him on the lips, drawing the shallow kiss out for longer than Brian was used to.  
"I'm sleepy." The blonde drawled.  
"Then go to sleep." Brian responded, still in half-shock at what was happening. "I don't want to, babe." Roger pouted. "I wanna keep kissing you." The kissing he could manage, it could be just Roger being drunkenly affectionate. But he'd called him _babe_. But he didn't get a chance to ask before Roger's lips pressed his lightly again. Roger never got tired when he was drunk. Or just in general.  
Brian didn't really feel like interrupting what they were doing to ask a menial question, so he kept kissing Roger- whose smooth hair had fallen around Brian's face and tickled at his neck. He moved his hands from the other's back and into his hair, pushing their mouths further together. Roger quickly licked his bottom lip and left Brian's mouth, moving his face down to his neck and kissing softly there. He hummed as he went. _Fucking adorable_. 

While it did feel great, Brian used the opportunity of having his mouth free to finally ask "Rog, why'd you call me that?" Ironically, his hands never left Roger's hair while he asked.  
"Call you what?" Roger asked, his face suddenly looming over Brian's again.  
"You called me 'babe'." He explained.  
"What else would I call my boyfriend?" Roger laughed, pecking his lips.  
"I'm not your boyfriend, Rog." Brian stated.  
"Says the guy kissing me." He cocked an eyebrow before kissing Brian again. Roger lapped his tongue into Brian's mouth, pressing it against Brian's, hands tangling into his curls. Brian broke their kiss, a trail of saliva connecting them before he spoke.  
"Roger, I'm serious. I'm not your boyfriend." Roger sat up, legs straddling Brian's hips.  
"I thought you were?" He sounded genuinely confused.  
"Well, I'm not."  
"Why'd you kiss me then?" More confusion. Brian responded only with silence. He definetly knew the answer, but he wasn't going to give it.  
"Brian May, do you have a crush on me?" Roger giggled. Brian sat up, glad for the darkness that hid his red cheeks.  
"Might do." He stammered, pressing his lips back on Roger's. He could feel him smiling, his dumb drunken giggle suppressed by Brian's kiss. He felt Roger's legs wrap around his waist and Roger pulling himself into his lap, arms around Brian's neck and hands in his hair. It was a lot. A lot of feelings to come from someone he'd never expect to feel them from, but _God,_ was he happy that it was him. Roger, the band's sex symbol, the pretty one- had pulled himself into Brian's lap. Brian, the smart, straight-laced one.  
Roger was kissing him.  
Roger had his hands tangled in his hair.  
His legs around his waist.  
His tongue in his mouth. 

Roger was all fire. His mouth and tongue worked in such a way against Brian’s that all he could do was grip at his back and hope for the best. Their kissing was open-mouthed and filthy. Messy, half drunk and sleepy, but it was kissing. Roger’s teeth nibbled his lip, pulling at it and licking it over. Brian dug his nails into his back, making Roger groan against his mouth. The guitarist took the opportunity to return the favour, running his tongue over Roger’s lip and flattening his palm on the back of his neck, pulling them closer. Roger responded with a sharp tug at Brian’s curls, grinding his hips down against the other’s.  
Brian stopped, pulled them apart. “Rog.” A nip at his neck, crotch pressed into his own and Roger whined. “Rog, stop.” Brian took his hands from the drummer and leans back on them, trying to detach himself from him.  
“I’m not having sex with you when you’re drunk.” A groan from Roger let him know he wasn’t happy. “I’m not.”  
Lips pressed softly against his and when Roger spoke, he pulled back just so Brian could feel his lips moving against his own: “That’s very noble of you.” his tongue ran over Brian’s lip, “Another time, maybe?”  
It was a question but Brian didn’t respond. He simply pulled Roger down on top of him and held him close against his chest, hand in his hair. 

They fell asleep like that, Brian stroking Roger’s hair and tangled with each other.


End file.
